She needs someone who will be everything for her: her friend, her boyfriend, her confidant, her lover and sometimes even her enemy.

They were now both ready, not to begin from scratch, but to continue with a love that had survived for thirteen years in hibernation. They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They'd both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They'd both lost their way without the other. Each had tried to find love with other people. But all that was now finished.

In years past, to keep their men close, women would wear a ring and bear children. It doesn't work like that today. Nowadays, how do we hold on to those we love? I've no idea.

On calm days, you always think you've conquered them. You think that in the end you've finally done them in. That you've got rid of them for good, now and forever. But that seldom happens. Most of the time, the demons are still there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. Tirelessly waiting for the moment when our guard drops. And when love goes away.

A miserable collection of little secrets, that's all any of us is.

When you decide to hit rock bottom, humiliation is part of the deal.

Love is always dangerous. To love is to hope you'll win it all while running the risk that you could lose it all. And sometimes it's also about accepting that there's a risk that you'll love more than you are loved.